That’s not like Malcolm

Me: Our beautiful Harriet. She looks a little concerned this morning, though.

Nell: Yes, I’m afraid someone has been reported to the Head of Security for inappropriate behaviour.

Me: It wasn’t Gladys, was it?

Nell: No. Why?

Me: I think she’s been using the Farm Dogs’ trampoline to practice her somersaults.

Nell: She’s been doing that for weeks. Nobody cares. It’s attention seeking if you ask me.

Me: Was it one of the larger animals?

Nell: Alejandro accidentally spat at a passing poodle, but apologies have been made.

Me: How did it happen?

Nell: It was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses.

Me: What’s wrong with that?

Nell: In the rain? Highly suspicious. He acted spontaneously.

Me: It was probably an optimistic poodle.

Nell: What are you talking about?

Me: On holiday and hoping for some sunshine.

Nell: If you must know, it was someone most unexpected.

Me: I bet it was Joyce.

Nell: No. It was Malcolm.

Me: Malcolm? I don’t believe it. He is the politest flamingo I’ve ever met.

Nell: Not anymore.

Me: What has he done?

Nell: He made prawn macarons for breakfast.

Me: That’s disgusting.

Nell: Yes. When Poppy challenged him he said ‘Gotcha’ and laughed.

Me: Laughed?

Nell: He’s not been himself for a while.

Me: In what way?

Nell: He’s been doing a lot of singing recently. Myfanwy was telling me.

Me: There’s no harm in that.

Nell: No. We expect the odd show tune, but not rap. He’s a flamingo, not a duck.

Me: Do ducks rap then?

Nell: The drakes are known for it. Anyway, David is on the case now.

Me: My darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy. He’ll have it all ‘rapped’ up in no time. See what I did there?

Nell: Good grief.

Me: I’ll get my coat. Sorry.

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